


sometimes you wish you'd never known

by how_to_sit_gay



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Missing Scene, set during Revolution of the Daleks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_to_sit_gay/pseuds/how_to_sit_gay
Summary: The Doctor tries to make sense of what she finds when she enters the spare TARDIS.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 112





	sometimes you wish you'd never known

**Author's Note:**

> Me, after the Special: phew thank god no new fic ideas I'm at full capacity anyway  
> Also me, 15 hrs later: ok bUT
> 
>   
> Just a short one, but I had to get it out asap cos I have the premonition that this won't be addressed in S13 and I know we all need it so

Energy and excitement rushed through her as the plan started to take form piece by piece. Oh, this was gonna be a good one, brilliant even. Opening the coordinate interface, she turned to Yaz. Yaz, who was still standing there with a diluted version of her anger from Graham’s sitting room on her face. Swallowing, the Doctor pressed her lips together for a short moment. 

There was no time to dwell on how and when on which terms they might part ways in the future, there was a planet to save.

“D’ya remember where the TARDIS is? The one that got you back to Sheffield, I mean.”

“Um. Yeah.” Her reply came slowly, an edge to it that the Doctor had trouble describing. Probably three quarters of her brains being busy with fleshing out her plan didn’t help there either.

“Can y’tell me where it is? I could let the TARDIS do a scan of the city herself but it’d be way quicker if y’just told me.”

The young woman on the opposite side of the console froze. “Why?”

Looking at her with raised eyebrows, the Doctor was stumped for a second. She was used (or had been? How much time needed to pass before she should speak of it in past tense? It was all very wibbly wobbly still) to Yaz questioning her, though most of the time out of curiosity, and had also noticed how her friend had been putting her foot down more than usual these past few hours - but this? This was something else. This right there was neither curiosity nor skepticism, this was blatant reluctance hiding behind a three letter word.

Something was wrong, but what?

“Not enough time to explain. So?”

She would get to it once they’ve gotten rid of the Daleks. Later. Maybe.

\---

The first thing that hit her when stepping inside was the smell. It didn’t smell like a new and practically unused TARDIS; there was something else, some other molecules mixed with the air, but she couldn’t put her finger on it - yet.

The second thing that hit her when she walked around the corner to get to the slightly tucked away console room was the chaos of colours littering the otherwise pristine interior. Baffled, she took in the scene in front of her. Multitudes over multitudes of post-it notes and larger sheets of paper were taped to the walls, even more were scattered around the floor, and the console itself didn’t fare any better for that matter.

Someone had spent a lot of time in here, that much was obvious - but how could that be? The ship was supposed to be left alone after arriving, nobody should’ve been able to get in.

She made her way around the room slowly, taking everything in and hoping that whoever had been in here wasn’t still around. Picking up a post-it from the console here and there, she came to a stop in front of the wall plastered with more notes of all colours.

After having enough of feeling a little bit lost, the Doctor turned her head to the ceiling. “Help me out here, mate, will ya?” she asked into the stillness of the room, however the ship refused to give any kind of acknowledgement.

That was odd.

(But what wasn’t right now? Her TARDIS bringing her back ten months too late, how humanity could forget the danger of the Daleks time and time again, Yaz’s whole behaviour after seeing her again…)

Judging by what was strewn about the console, the stranger had tried to figure out how to work the ship. The names for all the different buttons and dials might’ve been wrong, but the intention behind them was clear as day. 

And then she found her own name on the papers, on at least a quarter of them.

Dread coiled deep inside her stomach. Someone had figured out that this was a TARDIS and was now after her. For a split second survival instincts kicked in, the Dalek invasion being banned to the back of her mind. These notes were good, amazing even. Whoever had written them obviously knew their stuff and would sooner or later get to her. 

This couldn’t happen. Remembering her actual purpose, she smiled to herself. Maybe it was a good thing this TARDIS would be dead and gone soon.

Still, before she could do what she had come to do, she needed to find out who exactly this person was and started walking around the room again, taking in everything she hadn’t looked at yet.

She was so engrossed in making sense of all these notes, she almost stumbled and fell over something in her way. A sleeping bag. There was a sleeping bag on the spare TARDIS that had been here on Earth for ten months. Letting the assortment of notes in her hands fall to the floor, she crouched down in hope to find any further clues about what had been going on.

All her senses were on high alert when she picked it up and pressed the soft inlay to her nose. A familiar scent flooded her nostrils and slowly everything started to click into place.

The smell when she had entered the TARDIS.

The handwriting.

And most of all, Yaz’s reluctance to tell her where the ship was.

Those were all Yaz’s notes; all her notes on how to fly the TARDIS and find her, get back to her (colour-coded of course, it was Yaz, after all). Upon the realisation that her friend had spent so much time in here - even slept in here - that the whole ship had adapted to her smell, the Doctor leaned back and plopped down on her butt, burying her face in her hands.

Oh no. No no no no no.

Now that everything was so blatantly out in the open, it was as if she could physically feel Yaz’s presence all around her. Her dedication, her determination, her… desperation (also her  _ love _ but she wasn’t entirely ready to face that one just yet). And she had just bounced in as if nothing had happened like an intergalactic elephant, as if those decades in prison hadn’t happened either, praising Jack for getting her out when Yaz had been right there, ten months of metaphorical blood and sweat on her back.

She could practically feel the impact of Yaz’s hands on her shoulders all over again.

It took a while, but she finally managed to get up again on shaky legs and make her way over to the console. A sad smile gracing her face, the Doctor started to peel off the post-its of every bit she needed for her plan, stashing them away securely in her coat pocket. Maybe she would teach Yaz how to pilot some day, to make amends or something. Maybe.

Giving Yaz’s magna opus one last look, her eyes finally came to rest on the sleeping bag again. Yaz wouldn’t need all this stuff again anyway, would she? She got her bed on the TARDIS, and if they ever decided to go camping or something, the ship would provide her with a new one, right?

Sighing one last time and begging her hearts to stop jumbling about themselves, the Doctor squared her shoulders. Time to get rid of these annoying Daleks once again, then she could try to patch things up again for real with her fam. With Yaz.

She would definitely get to it. Later. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> I have Very Strong opinions on the ep and if y'wanna yell with me just hmu on tumblr or twitter, username's basically the same


End file.
